


Lay All Your Paws on Me

by Eggsyobsessed, Paxdracona



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: All the Cute, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Animals, Cute, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Found Animals, Harry Hart Lives, Healing, Love, M/M, Married Spies, Merlin (Kingsman) Lives, Pet Adoption, Pet Fostering, Post-Kingsman: The Golden Circle, old spies in love, spy husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 15:20:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19298410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eggsyobsessed/pseuds/Eggsyobsessed, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paxdracona/pseuds/Paxdracona
Summary: As Merlin heals from the events at Poppyland, he discovers a new hobby - involving four-legged creatures, with long tails, pointy ears, and the cutest meows - one that is sure to drive his husband, Harry, to drink.He's finding his new found retirement to be fulfilling, and learns that domestic life isn't so bad.Harry begins to question Merlin's activities given his new freedom.





	Lay All Your Paws on Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Paxdracona](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paxdracona/gifts).



> The is my second offering for the Kingsman Reverse Bang, and the art is by the lovely Paxdracona.  
> I couldn't help myself, because merlahad, old spies in love, and a plethora of kitties is just too sticking cute.  
> A special thank you to anarchycox for helping me with this idea, the fic name and cheering me on.  
> Another huge thank you to wyvernwolf, who is my word buddy, human sound board, and biggest cheerleader through this whole process.  
> Love you both <3

Harry smiled widely as the tiny giggle of the small girl, who romped around their living room, filled him with joy.

Her blonde curls, confined into two identical pigtails, bounced around as she tried to catch Mittens. The black cat, with white paws, only stayed still for her small body to get just close enough, before he darted off and she continued her chase.

“Knock-knock,” Eggsy called from the front; Harry could hear Tilde chiding softly behind him, that it is more appropriate to knock. “They are used to it,” Eggsy rebuffed as he walked into the parlor.

“Mama! Daddy!” Minna bounced up from her spot on the floor, where Mittens had crawled under the couch to escape the four years olds grasp, and charged at her father, who caught her in an easy flourish - one acquired from years of practice.

“Would you like some tea?” Merlin offered, already getting to his feet as he asked.

“I would love to, but we have to go,” Eggsy replied mournfully, a wiggly Minna in his arms. “Did you eat pastries for breakfast?” he wondered, Harry shifted away from the scrutinizing gaze Eggsy had now given him.

What grandfather's did during visits was of no consequence to the parents...he had hoped. Harry scooped his granddaughter into his arms, who happily went without argument, and settled her onto his hip.

“I wanna stay,” Minna pouted. “I chased Mittens, Mama,” she directed to her mother.

Tilde smiled softly, hand placed over her mouth to hide her grin. “We could stay a bit, Eggsy,” she soothed quietly.

“And be late for dinner with your parents?” Eggsy whispered harshly.

It was no surprise to any of them, that Tilde’s parent’s would have preferred she married a royal. But with Minna around, they seemed to tolerate Eggsy just a smidgen more, and he did not want to give them any excuse to snark about Tilde making a mistake in front of their child.

Tilde waved a hand dismissively and settled on the sofa with Merlin - who had returned with a full tea set on a silver tray. “They will get over it,” she replied, ignoring the way her husband grumbled under his breath, but took a seat on the free cushion.

Minna sat obediently on her grandfather’s lap, while the adults spoke of things she would not understand.

Already seeming to have gotten bored, she scooted off to go about her prior game; Ginger had meandered from his perch on the bookcase, to inspect Minna’s activities.

“Don’t pull his tale, love.” Eggsy reminded her, and gently removed Minna’s hands from the orange tabbies tale.

“I want a cat, Daddy,” she informed him, her small arms filled with a wiggling Henry.

The grey short haired was the most acceptable of the ‘love’ Minna gave them, and it was cute. She seemed to adore them so, and didn’t know how to control that love when it came to hugging the cats, so tight, their eyes might burst.

Harry and Merlin were teaching her; she had been spending a few more nights with them, and with their brood of five felines, Minna needed to learn how to properly handle them.

“Dinnae look at me,” Merlin defended quickly, as all eyes were on him. He pointed a thin, long accusing finger at his husband - who’s expression was unrepentant. “He is the reason the lass wants a cat,” he easily tossed his husband under the bus.

“So much for partnership, Hamish,” Harry said around the rim of his cuppa. “She has enjoyed them so much, perhaps her 5th birthday?” Harry regarded Minna’s parents.

Tilde dunked a biscuit into her tea, eyes thoughtful as she watched her daughter play. “She would enjoy it, Eggsy,” she agreed after a moment.

Eggsy sat, with his mouth gaped open; Merlin tapped a finger under his chin, forcing him to close it.

“Perhaps we should have this discussion away from little ears?” Eggsy pressed.

And it was no surprise that Tilde, on occasion, would side with Harry and Merlin. Even when all thought Eggsy would be the first one to vote for an animal.

“Grandfather says Grandpa had lots of kitties once,” she said, proud she had remembered that information.

Eggsy snorted. “You could say that,” he snarked, which melted away with the look Merlin gave him.

“I was going through a hard time,” Merlin reminded him. “They helped,” he added, as Minna climbed onto his lap.

“But you are not sad now?” Her eyes wide, her beautiful face crestfallen with the added information - much like her father, she had a heart of gold.

“I am not, lass,” Merlin soothed, a hand rubbed over her small back.

Minna tapped his thigh, and said, “was it because of your ouchies?”

Merlin kissed the crown of her head, as he snuggled her a little closer. “Aye, it was,” he answered, recalling the memory, as if it were yesterday.

\---

“I am not going in a bloody wheelchair,” Merlin grumbled, Harry behind him attempting to push him out of the front door. “I’d rather crawl.”

Harry tossed his hands up in surrender. “Then crawl, I am not dealing with this, Hamish,” he declared.

They had been on English soil for three weeks, and Merlin had made tremendous progress with his physical therapy, but had refused to use any prosthetic not made by his minions. Their reunion, after Poppy, had been less than favorable. What with Merlin in a Cambodia Hospital, and Harry making trips back and forth from England to him.

It had taken a monumental effort for Harry to leave Merlin there, and it was after the second flight to him that Merlin had insisted Kingsman needed his husband more, no matter how much they wanted to be with one another.

Harry went to move around him, Merlin caught his arm before he headed out the door.

“Wait, Harry,” he begged, his chest tight with an emotion he’d rather not admit. “I’m sorry, I’m being a shit, just…” Merlin paused too long for comfort, and said, “I am nae ready to go back yet,” he admitted.

He watched Harry’s one good eye soften, the hand in his squeezed softly while the other cupped his face.

“That’s all you had to say, Hamish,” Harry assured, before he bent down to tenderly place his lips to Merlin’s.

It was soft, entirely too gentle, and Merlin was tired of being treated like he’d break. He pressed himself closer, his bum on the edge of his seat, a hand tangled in Harry’s hair; Merlin knew he’d fuck up the style, but it didn’t seem Harry minded.

“You will keep your coms open?” Harry asked, once they had separated.

No matter if Merlin was well trained to maneuver their home in the wheelchair - everything had been kitted out to accommodate him until R&D finished his legs - Harry still worried.

“I will, mum,” Merlin sighed, but there was a softness in his tone. “I love ye,” he told him.

They had never departed with ‘I love you’s’ in the past, but after both of them basically came back from the dead, they said it every day.

“As I love you,” Harry promised, before indulging himself with another soft kiss. “I’ll be home around 5, but will let you know if I plan to be late,” he promised, a thumb stroked over Merlin’s cheekbone.

“Alright,” he smiled, watching as Harry left.

Merlin got himself back into the house, and went about his morning routine; he washed up and dressed for the day, already having had breakfast with Harry.

It still struck him as odd to see how his trousers hung at the knees, no longer having the flesh to fill the fabric, but the familiar green jumper and black trousers provided him comfort.

He enjoyed the quiet of the flat when alone, sometimes it was deafening, but he had grown accustomed to it and learned to love it. On his quest through his daily duties, Merlin decided to a bit of cleaning, and came across a photo of he and Harry years ago. They were much younger, and probably ten years into their jobs at Kingsman. Little did Chester know, they had been a thing for years before, but not many people knew that.

“Bastard would roll in his grave,” Merlin chuckled to himself, and placed the frame back in it’s spot on the mantel.

He was on the edge of his seat to reach up, and must not have locked his chair because the wheels began to turn, and Merlin almost ended up in the hearth of the fireplace - cursing under his breath, Merlin managed to right himself in his seat.

“Christ,” he huffed irritably - the quicker he could get his legs, the better and decided to forgo cleaning for the moment, in favor for his tablet.

He spent the better part of an hour looking through recipes online; Merlin came across a recipe for golden chicken in the crockpot. They had most of what they needed, but would need a few items, and a quick glance at the clock indicated it was just after 10. Merlin figured he could head to the market now and be back in time to get dinner started and ready for when Harry returned home.

In the weeks he had been home, Merlin was surprised by how happy domestic life had made him, and a part of him considered retiring down to part time. He was aware of the bets, how long it would take him before he combust and barged in begging for work. But he wasn’t ready, and a part of him wondered if he’d ever be ready.

Merlin pushed the thought aside, and ventured out of their two bedroom flat. It was a nice enough day, so he wheeled himself to the closest market. He knew the trip would give Harry a coronary, since it was 2 kilometers away, but Merlin had easily made it on foot.

What was the difference in a chair?

Except, by the time he reached it, his arms ached, but he welcomed the burn his muscles felt.

The cashier was friendly, and loaded the reusable bags to the back of his chair. Merlin didn’t tell her that he had this kitted with a few weapons, when she expressed her concern over someone robbing him on his way home - the person who tried would be poorer for the effort.

They lived in a pretty posh neighborhood, and it still never failed to surprise him how, no matter your class, people were filthy and took from those less fortunate.

Did he really consider himself to be less fortunate? No, not entirely. Merlin was, no doubt, more exposed to the sort of slime who chose to single out those deemed unable to defend themselves.

He was so caught up in his thoughts, that Merlin almost missed the little sounds from the alley he was about to pass. He stopped just on the edge of the alley, and waited a moment.

There it was again, a small shriek, almost like an injured animal. He got closer until he sat in front of a sodden box - where the noises continued. He peered in and saw a tiny, little scraggly kitten that clawed the side, it’s black fur matted and sticking up in odd places. It seemed to be entirely black, save for the white paws, like it was wearing mittens; Merlin thought it was kind of cute.

“Oh, look at you,” Merlin cooed, he reached down and scooped the kitten close to his chest. His hands clawed up a bit, but the tiny feline soon settled against him and began to purr.

It was entirely too small to be on it’s own, and Merlin had to wonder what had happened to its mother.

There didn’t seem to be anyone around, and there wasn’t even a note on the box. He couldn’t understand how someone could just drop a box in an empty alley and keep it moving. So, Merlin tucked it between his jumper and undershirt - the little head sticking out - and continued his trip home.

No one seemed to notice, nor care that he had a kitten poking out of his jumper. And if they had, well, no one dared to say anything.

\---

“Hamish,” Harry called, his hand pushing the door closed, as he worked out of his oxfords.

He smiled to himself, the sound of John Denver flowed through the hall, it was clear that it came from the kitchen. Harry inhaled deeply, it smelled heavenly, while loosening his tie and discarding his suit jacket on one of the dining room chairs - no matter how much Merlin griped about it.

Harry did not miss the way the table was set, perfectly as if he were dining with the Queen. He wandered past, a hand ran along the white linen on the table - that they so rarely used, save for holidays and dinner parties - before he stood in the doorway, with his hip propped against the wood.

Merlin moved easily around the space, humming to himself all the while, and it had been too long since Harry had heard his deep voice. He turned, cheeks heating with being caught; Harry thought he looked magnificent.

“This is a sight,” he murmured, kicking off from his perch to give Merlin a kiss. Harry stopped short, when he noted a tiny head poke out from the top of Merlin’s jumper.

“Merlin,” he said slowly. “Have you been messing with potions again? Because it seems as if you have grown an additional head...a cat’s head.” Harry was doing his best to keep his voice calm and even.

“Harry,” Merlin sighed, like he expected his husband to be smarter than that. “It is a kitten. I found it on my way back from the market. Little bugger was shivering and in a sodden box, I was not going to leave it there.” He ladled out a few chicken thighs onto plates, and added some of the gravy from the pot.

“Are those fucking bottles?” Harry inquired, as if just noticing his surroundings - three bottles washed and set to dry on a tea towel beside the sink. “No, Merlin.” He shook his head, in the same manner he did when he addressing Eggsy, in regards to how many explosives he took on a mission.

“Yes, Harry,” Merlin replied. “Would ye take the plates, please?” Harry did as he was asked, and tried to focus on more outside of the tiny cat that accompanied their meal.

“Does it have to eat with us?” Harry hadn’t touched his food, as Merlin easily cut his chicken and tucked in. “Why is it so little?” He was smarter than this, but Harry was a dog person and knew fuck all about cats.

“Vet said it was probably just a couple weeks old, nae weaned from the mum’s nipple and he was all alone.” Merlin stroked the top of its head with a solitaire finger. “Mittens is too little for dry food, or wet cat food. He needs to be bottle fed yet, poor bugger,” he cooed at it.

“You’ve named it?” Harry squeaked, which was not at all gentlemanly - he might add. “We are not keeping it,” Harry said with finality.

Merlin looked up from his dinner, head tilted to the side and he did that blink thing, one he often used on new recruits - one that, still to this day, had Harry gulping. “Oh?” he challenged.

Harry squared his shoulders, much like he did during round table meetings, and said, “yes.”

\---

“I cannot believe this,” Harry murmured, as the wee kitten suckled the bottle he held.

It was just past 12 in the morning, and the damn thing had to be fed every 6-8 hours. He couldn’t sleep, and so turned Merlin’s alarm off and figured he could give his husband a break.

Mittens had been with them for a week, and Merlin made it his mission to ensure the cat was well cared for and loved.

Harry would be lying if he denied how happy this made Merlin, and that made Harry happy knowing Merlin was. He had to admit the feeble kitten was cute - Harry made sure to keep comments like that to himself, he had voiced it out loud once and Merlin ‘accidentally’ ran his bare toes over.

He never called Mittens feeble again.

“It is like taking care of an infant,” Harry grumbled to himself; Mittens chased the bottle, as Harry’s hand lowered. “Oh, I apologize,” he said as he straightened out for ease of access, and heard the soft chuckle behind him.

“Are ye feeding my babe?” Merlin inquired, the soft squeak of the wheelchair trailed into the kitchen.

Harry hummed an agreement - Mittens kneaded his hand and the kitten was so clearly slipping into a milk coma. It was almost cute - he would never admit to his husband the little bugger was growing on him.

“He likes ye,” Merlin noted, as he set about to put the kettle on. “Care for a cuppa?” he asked, already taking down two, when Harry confirmed. “Ye could have left my alarm on,” he said softly.

“I could have,” Harry agreed, he ran his forefinger along the kitten’s smooth black coat.

Since Merlin had washed him it was slick, and glossy like it should be.

“But you have been doing so much between caring for Mittens, your therapies and keeping the house in order.” He was so grateful.

“Aye.” Merlin nodded his head, completely content with watching Harry gently pet Mittens.

It got quiet, but it was comfortable. They always enjoyed the silence that followed each other’s company.

“We are keeping him, aren’t we?” Harry asked.

Merlin snorted, amused, as the kettle sounded - it nearly toppled over in his haste to snatch it off of the burner, in fear he’d wake the cat.

Harry had to laugh at that. “You truly treat him like a baby,” he murmured, affection ringing clear in his voice.

His husband would take in a homeless animal, and nurse it back to health. Merlin was good at those sorts of things, one of the many reasons Harry loved him so much.

“He is a baby,” Merlin insisted, as he handed a mug to Harry.

It warmed his heart that it was made exactly the way he desired, Harry never truly paid attention to how much detail Merlin placed into things. Even something as small as making sure there was the precise amount of cream and sugar in his tea.

“Should I assume our child is sleeping with us?” Harry wondered, he took Merlin’s empty mug and loaded it in the dishwasher along with his own. When he turned, Merlin had already scooped Mittens up, and the tiny feline purred happily on his blanket covered lap.

“He gets lonely.” Was the only response he received, as Merlin wheeled away.

\---

“What do ye say we try walking?” Merlin regarded Mittens, the cat was harnessed and it had only taken a week to get him to stop climbing Merlin like a tree, in hopes to get rid of it.

The soft mew he got was answer enough; Merlin sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed the sock Kingsman had given him to go over each stump. His legs had been completed over two weeks ago, and he was making good progress with his therapies. So much so, that they had given him permission to walk around his garden a few times a day.

It still took him a few minutes to get the prostheti's on, but they fit well and didn’t pinch his skin anymore.

Harry had had to soothe away the blisters, that had formed, on each end, but with a few adjustments Merlin was rid of them. He stood and had to grasp the bedside table, his balance still off when he first got on his feet, but he was getting better at it.

“Shall we be off?” he asked, and grabbed the cane they had supplied. It helped tremendously with the left side, it was his shorter leg - the one he had stepped on the mine with, and it was just a bit shorter.

With the leash in hand, they wandered out the back. He liked to do this alone, it was easier to keep himself at a pace more comfortable for his legs.

Merlin always felt like he needed to prove something, push himself harder with an audience around him. Harry had told him to stop being silly, and just take everything in stride and not force it.

They were halfway around the garden, when Mittens climbed the small tree in their yard and sat on the lowest branch - he had discovered trying to get higher was not possible, the lead only let him go so far.

“We go the distance, don’t we?” he inquired, getting comfortable on the patio chair underneath the tree.

Around this point of the walk, his legs got a little sore. It wasn’t unusual, and they’d hurt worse in physical therapy.

Like any other day, Mittens hopped down and made himself a nest on Merlin’s lap. Merlin stroked the silken black fur, and thought of how the kitten had grown so much in the last two months and how much progress he had made. He no longer looked like a sodden, sick kitten, but thrived and Merlin couldn’t help but see the irony in his own progress.

Once his legs felt a little better, he thought a walk around the block wouldn’t be bad. He had done it a few times before and Mittens didn’t seem to mind the added time to get fresh air.

They were just rounding the corner back to their street, when Merlin heard an animal’s cry. It was so soft and little he almost missed it, but Mittens seemed to have heard it too - his ears perked when they heard another noise, it was a clear meow this time.

“What on earth,” Merlin murmured, and noted a cat - about twice the size Mittens was now, which wasn’t all that big - under a stoop.

He assumed the cat had belonged to the house, but knew that home had been vacant for a week now and the new owners were due to move in by Saturday.

It should disturb him how much he knew about their neighborhood, he supposed that’s what happens when you are home more than not.

“Hey there,” he called, and the cat slinked out from their hiding and sniffed his hand.

Mittens had now climbed his back and was sitting on his shoulder, hissing.

“We should be kind to strangers,” Merlin chided him softly, and was impressed when Mittens stopped.

“Aren’t ye pretty,” he commented, as the mostly white cat with black spots - almost like a cow - rubbed along his legs and marked his brogues.

“Ye look cared for, must have a home,” Merlin noted, as he took in the feline’s swell of stomach. He gave it a few pets, before taking Mittens - who hadn’t left his perch - and continued on home.

It took him until the cat barged through his door, to realize he had been followed by the other feline.

“Shit,” Merlin groaned, when the cat made a beeline for the food and water dishes in the kitchen.

By the way it licked furiously at the water, Merlin wondered if it did have a home, but it did not seem underweight - he noticed the fur was a little dingy and could use a bath.

“Harry is nae going to like this,” Merlin said, and went to go get the bath ready.

\---

“Hamish!” Harry called, and shoved the door close with his foot. “I brought home pizza and beer,” he informed his husband, who hadn’t answered him yet.

Harry shrugged out of his suit jacket and oxfords, before heading into the living room, where his husband was. Merlin was sprawled out on the couch, glasses askew, and two cats sleeping on him. Harry smiled to himself, as he set the food and beverages in the kitchen, and didn’t really process what he had seen.

“What the…” he trailed off, as what he saw slowly settled into his brain, and stormed in to shake Merlin viciously awake. “Hamish Hart, explain yourself,” Harry hissed, and continued to jostle his husband until he woke.

“Christ, Harry,” Merlin grumbled, he made a point to sit up and winced against the ache in his legs. He was pushed back down by a firm hand, Harry sat at the end of the sofa and yanked the bottom of his trousers up. “Oh,” he moaned, as Harry applied a generous amount of the pain cream and massaged each stump.

“Do not think because I am doing this, that it excuses the new four-legged creature in our home,” Harry warned, but his hands were gentle and fingers soft against the particularly sore spots on Merlin’s legs.

Merlin was in a state of euphoria, his conscious slipped between the bitching Harry was doing and sleep.

“Hamish, if you fall asleep on me,” he shook the knee in his grasp, and waited for Merlin to come all the way to. “What is it doing here?” Harry pressed, as he applied more cream to the left stump - with the knowledge it bothered his husband the most.

“Followed me home,” Merlin replied groggily.

Harry’s touch had stopped. “I beg your pardon?” he asked incredulously.

“Don’t stop, please,” Merlin begged, and when Harry continued he added, “I was out for a walk, figured it would do me good when I wasn’t in PT, and when I was coming back up our street I saw her under a stoop.” He sighed as Harry worked up his thighs. “Figured it was well kept, maybe the neighbors cat, but it followed me and just ran right past me into the house...” he trailed off, his breathing getting heavier and a soft snore left his lips.

“Merlin,” Harry growled, and almost felt bad because he looked so tired.

Merlin straightened up a bit and fixed his glasses. “Sorry,” he mumbled an apology. “Walk really did me in and Missy needed a bath.” He closed his eyes again.

“You fucking named it,” Harry hissed and his good eye zeroed in on the sleeping cat on his husband’s chest. “We are not keeping it,” he stated, even as Merlin slept beside him.

\---

“She is getting bigger,” Harry observed, horrified, one night.

Merlin wheeled out of the bathroom and situated himself beside Harry on the bed. “Well fed?” he figured, and regarded the way her stomach was just that much more round in the middle.

Harry refused to think of what he was thinking, because that would be just his fucking luck. But it seemed his husband had the same idea. “Ye think she is pregnant?” He gathered his tablet, opened up the browser and decided to look it up.

He leaned forward, making it seem like he was rubbing Missy’s belly, and checked her nipples. “Hmm,” Merlin hummed thoughtfully, and Harry did not like that.

“No,” Harry said, it was a plea. “No, Hamish.” He shook his head, and Merlin just scooped her up and cradled her close.

Mittens joined the cuddle and Harry was pitted against the looks of his husband, and two fucking cats. He would not succumb to their wide eyes.

No. That would show weakness, and Harry Hart was not weak.

“Aw, Harry,” Merlin cooed, “I felt one move.” He smoothed a palm over the swell of her tummy.

“Fuck you, we are not keeping them,” Harry’s voice had gone up a few octaves.

Merlin leveled a cool stare on his husband, one that he often used when recruits got too big for their britches. “I am nae getting rid of her,” he decided.

Harry brooded over that for twenty minutes, before he tossed his hands in the air - scaring both felines and Merlin. “Fine! But we are not keeping the kittens!” he jabbed a finger towards Merlin, who delicately swatted it away.

“I didn’t plan on it,” Merlin answered, and went back to his reading.

\---

“Why have none of them been given away yet?” Harry wondered one evening, as the three kittens climbed amongst one another and occasionally gnawed on his toe. “They are plenty old enough to be on their own,” he added, the orange tabby hooked onto his lounging trousers and climbed.

“None of them are a good fit,” Merlin responded lightly, and scritched the grey one under the chin.

Harry looked between the white one, with beige patches, and the orange tabby. “I do not see anything wrong with them?” he was at a loss.

The kittens were cute, and a few families with little children had come by to inquire about the little brood they had. It didn’t matter, because each time Merlin said they had turned down the offer, which was absurd, they were free.

“Nae, kittens are fine,” Merlin answered, busy with the little one on his lap.

She attacked the index finger he waggled in front of her face, and played chase across the afghan on his lap. “The inquirers are not the right fit,” he explained, when Harry just stared at him gobsmacked.

“Ouch!” Harry exclaimed, pulling his foot way from the small razor sharp teeth that sank into his big toe. “I am not going to put up with this much longer, Hamish,” he complained, even as the small orange tabby tried to assault his person again. “You are trouble,” he directed to the tiny face.

“Why?” Merlin wondered, scooting his bum further onto the cushion - the gap between his thighs made a nice nest for Mittens, Missy, and Butters…not that he was telling Harry he named the kitten. “They are all perfect angels,” he cooed, and ignored the light snort Harry responded with.

“We can’t keep them all,” he said softly, and when Merlin opened his mouth to answer, Harry continued, “you will be going back to work, and how on earth are we to care for five cats?” Forget he really didn’t want five cats, but that was beside the point.

“I don’t know if I want to go back,” Merlin confessed. He had it on his mind, and he was honestly so busy at home with the animals they had acquired, well he acquired as Harry so lovingly pointed out, that he had not mentioned it.

It got quiet, and not in the comfortable way. Merlin didn’t meet Harry’s eyes, not sure he’d be able to. There had yet to be discussion on the matter, it was always assumed Merlin would go back, but he had enjoyed being home. He had figured on going back once his therapies were up, and he was nearing the end of them.

“Are you sure?” Harry’s voice was so low, Merlin almost missed it. Harry came to sit where his legs ended and accepted the hand that cradled his. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Merlin shifted a bit, but met Harry’s gaze as a firm hand cupped his chin. There was nothing but love in the kind brown eye that looked back.

“I wasn’t sure at first,” he admitted.

“Is it about the cats?” Harry wondered, bringing Merlin’s palm up to press a delicate kiss there. “It is okay,” he assured his husband, who seemed torn with something - like he was fighting his desire to not go back to work, and return based on loyalty and duty.

Merlin sighed, leaning into the offered touches of affection. “It is not the cats, not entirely. I just found I enjoy being home.” He situated himself, so that Harry was behind him against the back of the couch, his back pressed to Harry’s chest.

The movement had sent the felines scurrying, he mourned the loss for a second, but settled comfortably with Harry in a cuddle. His husband’s arms formed a cage around his midsection, the warmth of his breath against his neck - it had been too long since they’d just lay together like this.

“I was looking at the garden, and we could have some lovely plants in the back, flowers. I was thinking hydrangeas, perhaps a bed of tulips and maybe even a few bleeding heart bushes.” His voice was filled with an awe Harry had not heard from Merlin in decades; Harry’s heart warmed.

“You can do whatever you want,” Harry promised, before he placed a tender kiss to the nape of Merlin’s neck. “Whatever makes you happy, will make me happy, darling.” His lips lingered over Merlin’s skin, tongue slipped out to sweep along where his hairline once was, and enjoyed how the hair growing felt rough on his tongue.

“I love ye,” Merlin whispered, his voice thick with emotion. Velvety, soft lips pressed firmly just behind his ear; he instinctively leaned back further into the chest he was against.

A strong hand caressed under Merlin’s jumper, trailing from his abdomen down to the waistband of his pants, slipping skilled fingers between his trousers to cup the growing bulge there. Merlin hummed pleasantly in response, Harry didn’t move, just held him.

It was oddly arousing, and despite what history had taught them, Merlin did not grow frustrated with the lack of strokes Harry bestowed on him.

A few moments passed, and Harry’s own excitement was made known. It was slower than it ever used to be, but Merlin was content to wait for his husband to rise to the occasion - because Harry always did. He added a rock to his hips, causing his arse to grind against Harry’s hard dick.

The thrill of it sent butterflies fluttering through his stomach, and only Harry Hart could evoke this kind of reaction out of him - even when he felt less desirable, much like he had in the past six months.

Harry shifted them, so that Merlin was on his back and he loomed over his body.

Merlin inclined his head giving Harry better access to throat, a tongue swept along the dips and grooves of his neck, jaw, and exposed collarbone. He could feel Harry working his trousers open, and pull them off with his pants in a flourish - one acquired from years of having quick shags in his office when King was on lunch. But it was different, it possessed the same urgency and not at the same time.

There was something slower, careful, and precise as Harry undressed him. Merlin savored the warmth of Harry’s fingers ghosting over his body, down his sides, around the meat of his thighs.

“You are gorgeous, my love. Each and every day you get more luminous,” Harry praised, and the words had his face flushed as if Merlin were a boy.

He lay exposed just for Harry, and Harry was the only one to ever see him this bare and vulnerable. Merlin spread his legs wider, as wide as they would go, as Harry smoothed his palms over his naked thighs to come round and gently stroke the end of each stump. He only winced a little, and not from pain, but they were hypersensitive and each nerve ending spiked with an electric sensation.

Merlin watched Harry lower himself, his husband’s lips hot, and wet against his skin; Merlin thought he’d stop to give his dick a suck, but he continued and Merlin gasped when Harry placed the lightest kisses to each end of his legs.

“You’ve said it once,” Harry murmured between his thighs, moving to the next one. “Darling, I love each and every part of you. Even the ones you find hideous,” he finished his affection and leaned up to trap Merlin’s lips firmly against his. “Death didn’t keep me away,” he whispered, and a hand just barely touched Merlin’s left stump, “and this will not either.”

Merlin cradled Harry’s left cheek, thumb ran along the corner of his left eye to trace the scars and creases there. “I know,” he agreed softly.

That was all it took for Harry to strip himself, their kisses grew greedy, hungrier, all of a sudden as if they couldn’t get enough of one another.

Merlin was grateful for the lubricant they had stashed in the drawer of the end table; his hands were quick to give Harry a few strokes, as his husband worked him open.

The silence of the room stretched on, and all that could be heard were their quiet moans, breaths exchanged as kisses were offered, lips smacked together with teeth in their haste to consume the other.

Merlin arched his back, as Harry placed a pillow under his hips and aligned himself. They both sighed in unison as Harry sank in, it was a comfortable feeling - the familiar stretch was welcome.

Harry’s eye locked with his, and Merlin nodded his head and Harry began to move.

It was slower than it had ever been. Merlin tipped his chin up, and Harry met him part way for a delicate kiss - warmth coursed through his body, as Harry moved in and out. Merlin grasped his dick, and began to stroke himself in tempo of the pace his husband set.

Soft ‘I love you’s’ whispered between the space of their mouths, between each pass of their lips. They couldn’t say it enough, and no amount of times they repeated it would equal the depth of their shared love.

Harry breathed heavily over Merlin’s face. Each exhale cooled the burn of his lips, as Merlin tangled a hand in the back of his hair.

The strands were soft and bouncy, so rarely did Harry allow his hair to curl, but Merlin adored it. He could feel a bead of sweat, that dampened the hair at the back of his neck, and Merlin swept his fingers along the hairline and back up to gather a fist full, and pull gently, of Harry's hair. Which enticed a low moan to escape Harry’s parted lips, it vibrated through his chest which rumbled against Merlin’s.

“Harry,” Merlin whispered, a strangled sound, as his orgasm came to a head; he spilled over his hand and between himself and Harry. He repeated his husband’s name, as he desperately claimed his mouth to his over and over, until Harry stilled above him - his christian name slipped through Harry’s lips as he was undone.

He ran his hands over Harry’s hair as their breathing returned to normal; Harry’s patch came askew, and Merlin fixed it with a gentle touch.

“Ye, my love, are gorgeous,” Merlin promised tenderly, and Harry’s bashful smile was endearing.

Harry bent down for another swift kiss. “I know,” he responded haughtily, a laugh escaped him as Merlin shoved him to the side - returning Harry to his previous position - dislodging their connection.

“Peacock,” Merlin rebuffed, but his tone lacked all heat.

“You wouldn’t have me any other way,” Harry said, as he reached across Merlin for a tissue to clean most of the mess made, and scoop his husband into a cuddle. He draped them both in the afghan from the back of the couch.

Merlin hummed thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t, ye are right,” he decided, before he allowed the exhaustion of his orgasm to pull him into a nap.

He was woken by the grumble of Harry behind him, the weight of a tiny body on his left shoulder.

“Bugger off,” Harry complained, and Merlin turned his face to see Butters perched on him and licking Harry’s just fucked hair.

Merlin quickly turned his head away into the pillow under him, in attempts to hide the snort of laughter that escaped him.

“You too,” Harry directed towards him, and pinched his arse.

\---

“You know,” Harry said over breakfast, as he buttered a blueberry muffin. “We have the kennels, if you so wanted to work with the animals.”

Merlin took his seat beside Harry and sipped the cuppa already prepared for him. “Aye, I know,” he answered, and tucked into the toast and eggs Harry had plated for him. “But I am nae working with canines,” he added.

“Oh?” Harry asked, fear over curiosity consumed him.

They had kept every last kitten Missy had given birth to; Merlin smiled shyly at the tone of his husband’s voice.

“I am nae going to get any,” he promised, but Harry watched him with a careful eye. “I promise,” he assured.

“Okay,” Harry responded cautiously.

Merlin had wiped up the last of the yolk with his second piece of toast, and regarded his husband again. “I am going to be a foster parent,” he informed Harry. And had to pat him on the back when Harry choked on his last sip of tea. “I know we are older, Harry, but I didn't think we’d need thickened liquids this early on in our older years.”

“Oh fuck off, Hamish,” Harry managed around a cough, as he swatted his husband away.

He had to bite his lip to stave off a chuckle, as Harry returned to a normal shade of pink - his face had gone an impressive red during his coughing fit.

“Hamish,” Harry said, and took a sip of water to clear his throat. “I know I said I would support you in your decision to stay home, but dear,” he added firmly, “we are not that spry anymore to be having children.”

That put an end to Merlin’s restraint from laughing, as he barked out loudly. It was a deep belly laugh, one that sprung tears to his eyes and had him holding his abdomen from the muscle cramps.

“I do not find this funny,” Harry hissed, displeased.

“Oh,” Merlin giggled, “but this is so funny,” he insisted, even as Harry left the table to clean the dishes. “Wait,” he begged - getting to his feet was still a slower affair, but it was easier than before - as he followed Harry.

“I went along with the cats, each and every one you brought home. Even if one of them was a packaged deal, one for the price of four,” he said, and squinted his eyes when Merlin coughed to hide a laugh,” but I am not going to just flop to the side and play dead while you bring children into our home,” he finished, exacerbated.

“You fool,” Merlin responded lovingly, but it seemed Harry still didn’t understand, so he added, “I want to foster cats in need, ones who are waiting for good homes.” He watched Harry’s face slowly smooth with the information, but a frown still marred his brow.

“You are not keeping any,” Harry warned, but accepted the kiss Merlin offered.

“Have a good day at work, I love ye,” he said on his way to the door.

“I love you, too,” Harry responded on a sigh.

\---

Harry felt the vein in his right temple throb, he was almost certain this was not normal.

No. He knew it was not normal.

“Sweetie,” he began sweetly, too sweet and carried a coolness that had drifted in with him as he took in Merlin’s appearance.

It had been a month since they’d started fostering cats, and none of them stayed longer than a week, some as little as a few days. Harry thought it worked out well, and Merlin seemed to be enjoying himself. That was, after all, the most important thing to Harry - Merlin finding joy in his new found retirement.

“Yes?” Merlin asked, not looking up from the wee kitten in one hand, a bottle in the other.

Harry counted to ten before he spoke again. “I thought we said cats? Not kittens, and I do mean kittens.” He pointed to the small plush pet bed, which had three other small felines in it.

“They are cats,” Merlin responded, as he switched out a tiny kitten for another. “Are ye okay?” he asked, Harry had gone uncharacteristically quiet.

“I am fine,” Harry said, finally, and grabbed another bottle to help his husband feed one of the little buggers. “We are not keeping any,” he informed him, and Harry felt as though he was a broken record now.

Merlin leaned into Harry, and rested his head on his shoulder, a small smile in place. “I know,” he agreed, as they both fed a kitten.

They only kept one, and Harry named it Patches.

The calico had taken an interest in Harry’s various eye patches, he gathered she was quite cute.

\---

“Daddy said I can only have one, Grandpa,” Minna informed him, her hand curled in his.

Merlin opened the door to the shelter and allowed her to walk through first. “Aye, I know lass, he told me.”

He let her wander a bit, always just a step behind her. Merlin loved to watch her bright blue eyes widened, as she took in the various animals.

“None of them have homes?” The five year old asked, her tone mournful and lower lip jutted out just a bit.

“Not yet, but we cannae take them all,” he said and silently prayed she didn’t beg him for more than one cat. He had promised Eggsy he would not allow it, and swore to Harry he would not return home with any other cats of their own.

“We have to remember what Daddy said,” Merlin reminded her gently, much to her displeasure; she sulked past the cages, running a palm along the bars, and made her way to the cats.

“Aw,” she sighed, “look!” Minna pointed to the all white cat.

It was curled into a ball sleeping soundly, he could just see the face and he thought it looked like a bunny. The description on the cage informed a prospective adopter that her name was Lil, she was a 7 year old cat, good with children, and tolerated other animals.

He watched Minna stand on her tiptoes to slide a tiny finger through and pet the fluffy white fur.

“I want her, Grandpa,” she told him, and cooed when Lil got up and booped Minna’s finger with her nose. Minna scritched the cat between the ears, and turned her bright sunny smile on Merlin, her cheeks dimpled with her grin.

There was nothing more pure than her smile, it reminded Merlin so much of the one Eggsy often wore.

“Aye, ye can have her,” he assured, and got an employee to help them.

Merlin returned home, just in time for dinner, the aroma of garlic, oregano, and browned meat filled his nose. He smiled to himself, it was clear Harry was making his lasagna; it was one of Merlin’s favorites.

“Harry,” Merlin called, as he meandered to the kitchen and sure enough Harry stood by the stove, his pink apron - with frills on the end - in place. Something Merlin had gifted him, as a gag, one anniversary and Harry wore it every time he cooked.

“And how did our granddaughter do?” Harry asked, “did she find the perfect cat?” His back still turned to Merlin.

“She did, and she is settled at home with a 7 year old all white cat named Lil. Eggsy only screamed once when it jumped on his lap and coated his black trousers in white fur.” Merlin had to chuckle at that.

Harry cringed at the mention of fur on his clothing, and remembered Vivian shed constantly. He kept a lint roller in each room, because you could not sit anywhere without being covered in grey fur.

“Eggsy will cope,” Harry decided. “I made lasagna, I hope you are hungry,” he said, smiling as he turned to face Merlin - it slowly faded as he saw a carrier in Merlin’s hand. “Hamish,” he started, and carefully approached his husband.

“It is nae what ye think,” Merlin promised, and set the carrier on the island. “It is for ye,” he offered, as he opened the front.

Harry peaked in and his face softened considerably, as he took the tiny Yorkshire puppy. “Hamish,” he whispered.

“Ye haven’t had a dog since Mr. Pickle,” Merlin began, “and Minna saw her. She said Grandfather needed something too, because she knows ye like dogs.” Harry had gone silent, as he curled the small dog close. “Do ye like her?” Merlin worried, but it quickly dispelled as Harry lifted his watery gaze to him.

“I love her, Hamish,” Harry whispered, voice strangled with emotion. “Thank you,” he said, as he took a few short steps to Merlin and pressed a loving kiss to his waiting lips. “I love you,” he swore once they were separated.

“I love ye, too,” Merlin responded, relief washed over him as Harry cooed over his puppy.

Harry moved towards the hallway. “Would you take the lasagna out, darling. It needs to sit for a half hour,” he called over his shoulder.

“Where are ye going?” Merlin inquired as he did what Harry asked.

He poked his head back into the kitchen. “To face time Eggsy. I need to thank our granddaughter for Madam Gherkin,” Harry said, and disappeared again.

Merlin grinned to himself, and then frowned. “Wait,” he said, puzzled, “Madam Gherkin?” he called out and went to find Harry.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoy!!! Thank you for reading <3


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